A Very Merry Trigun Christmas
by mimarin
Summary: Yes, we all know that Christmas was quite a while ago, but Nicholas/Vash shounen-ai never goes out of season. Pure fluff.


DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters do not belong to me. I'm just abusing- er, borrowing them for a while.  
  
WARNING: WAFF shounen-ai in certain parts to the point of cavity-inducing. I'll probably hate myself in the morning for writing this.  
  
---  
A Very Merry Trigun Christmas  
---  
  
"Oh, MA'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!" Milly squealed as she examined the contents of the box on the table. Several patrons in the restaurant turned to look at her curiously, then resumed their partying.  
  
"You don't have to be so loud, Milly," Meryl scolded. Due to the holiday season, she was wearing a green blouse and long skirt instead of her usual insurance agent apparel. Milly sported a full-blown Santa suit, complete with red velvet pants, jacket, and hat trimmed with white faux fur.  
  
"I'm glad you like the gift," Nicholas smiled. His black suit seemed out of place among the bright outfits in the crowded restaurant.  
  
"I love it!" Milly giggled as she slid the bracelet on her wrist. It was a simple silver hoop with her initials engraved on the outside. "Isn't it nice, ma'am?"  
  
"It would've been nicer if he had used his own money to pay for it," Meryl grumbled, mentally subtracting the earlier "loan" from her paycheck.  
  
Nicholas sweatdropped. "Well, it's the thought that counts."  
  
"Well, if you had been *thinking*, you wouldn't have lost all your money gambling on the train ride here," the insurance agent replied curtly.  
  
"Where's Mr. Vash?" Milly asked, sensing the growing tension between her two friends.  
  
"I have no idea," Meryl sighed, taking a sip from her coffee. "Probably getting drunk at the bar and harrassing some poor women like he did last time. And leaving us to pick up the tab."  
  
"That's terrible," Nicholas groaned sympathetically.  
  
"Although I recall last time, you were drinking and harrassing along with him."   
  
"Gee, Vash has been gone a really long time. I'd better go look for him," Nicholas said hurriedly as he leaped up from the table and scrambled outside.  
  
"Men," Meryl scoffed as she leaned her chin against the palm of her hand dejectedly.   
  
"Why don't I buy you a drink, ma'am?" Milly offered cheerfully, trying to perk up her partner.  
  
"I don't drink."  
  
"Come on, ma'am, it's Christmas!"  
  
"Well, I suppose one couldn't hurt..."  
  
---  
  
The man known as Vash the Stampede perched on a lawn chair on the inn porch and stared up at the night sky. The town street was completely deserted. He could hear the faint sounds of merriment inside the tiny restaurant across the street. Above him, millions of stars twinkled brightly.  
  
Which star was she on now?  
  
"Hey."  
  
Vash turned his head, startled out of his midnight reverie. Nicholas was standing in the inn's doorway behind him. The priest quietly pulled up a chair next to his on the porch and sat down.  
  
"We were starting to get worried about you."  
  
"Oh, sorry. I'll be back inside soon."  
  
"You might want to stay out here," Nicholas said casually as he lit a cigarette.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Listen."  
  
Suddenly, a deafening yowl came from the inside of the restaurant that might possibly be interpreted as singing. It seemed to be produced by two voices- both female, familiar, and very, very drunk.  
  
"I WAS SO NAAAAIIIIVE..." the higher-pitched, chirpy voice started, "NOT TO THIIIIINK THAT LOOKS COULD DECEIVE..."  
  
The second woman cut in. "THE FIRST TIME YOU MADE MY HEART JUMP, A GOOD-LOOKING BLONDE MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!" Vash swore the glass windows rattled in their sills.  
  
"Huh, I didn't know Meryl had a thing for me," Vash grinned.  
  
"Well, strong alcohol brings out hidden feelings," Wolfwood grimaced, "and singing talent that should stay hidden."   
  
"Yeah."  
  
The two men chuckled, listening to the insurance girls' butchered howling under the dark sky. Vash felt a sudden icy drop against his hand and looked down. A single snowflake in the shape of a star lay on his palm. He blinked, and it instantly melted in the hot night.   
  
Vash smiled. "Thank you, Rem," he whispered.  
  
"What did you say?" Wolfwood turned to him, cigarette in hand.  
  
"Nothing," the blonde gunman said, brushing his hand against his red trenchcoat. The loud singing had abruptly stopped. Tonight, they were going to have to carry a pair of passed-out girls to their rooms.   
  
"You know," the priest said, staring at the ground, "I didn't even get you a gift."  
  
"I didn't get you one, either."  
  
"But I still feel guilty. Tell you what. Let's go inside, and I'll buy you a drink and you can buy me a drink."  
  
"I don't have any money."  
  
"Neither do I."  
  
For a moment, they looked at each other. Wolfwood was the first one to look away.  
  
"Well, I guess I'll hit the sack," Nicholas yawned as he rose from his chair and strolled across the porch to the motel door. "And if I'm lucky, there'll be someone next to me when I wake up." He stopped in the open doorway. "Are you coming?"  
  
Vash was staring intently right above the other man's head, which made Wolfwood slightly nervous. After a long pause, Vash got up and walked to him.   
  
"Wolfwood."   
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Do you know what you're standing under?"  
  
Nicholas looked up. Nailed to the doorway right above him was a dark green plastic bough with small beaded berries. Misletoe. When he tilted his head back down, he felt the warmth of a gloved hand on his shoulder.  
  
Vash leaned forward and pecked Wolfwood on the cheek lightly. For a brief, terrible moment, the priest's eyes widened, and Vash wondered if he had made the second worst decision in his life.  
  
Then, a slow, wide smile spread across Nicholas's face, and he softly mouthed three words that made Vash smile even wider.  
  
"Do that again."  
  
---  
  
"Ma'am?"  
  
"Hrrrrrrrrrunnngh?"  
  
The quivering mass of Jell-o formerly known as Meryl Stryfe slowly crawled her way out of bed, and promptly crashed on the floor. She sluggishly staggered to her feet, making no attempt to smoothen her wrinkled outfit from the night before. Her partner fared no better. Miss Thompson's hair was sticking up in several different gravity-defying directions. Both women had dark bags under their eyes.  
  
"Ma'am?"  
  
"Whaaaa?"  
  
"Which way is the bathroom?"  
  
Half-swaying and half-scrambling, the partners went to pay their morning respects to the porcelain god. On the way, Milly tripped over a pile, nearly tipping them over.  
  
"Be careful, Mil- ugggh," Meryl groaned, as her hangover didn't permit loud voices.  
  
"Sorry, ma'am."   
  
They continued on their journey to the bathroom, ignoring the obstacle. They didn't notice that the pile consisted of a red trenchcoat and a black suit.  
  
"Ma'am, it looks like someone's in there already."  
  
"That's... ridiculous. Who'd be in our bathroom anyway-" Meryl said as she opened the door.  
  
Much screaming ensued.   
  
---  
  
  
Notes: Ummmm. That's all I have to say. Comments, flames, etc. can be directed to mimarin@onebox.com.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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